


meet me halfway

by callmeshakesqueer



Category: Vis a Vis | Locked In (Spain TV)
Genre: Angst, Eventual Fluff, F/F, Old Relationship, Secret Relationship, a famous actress and a fucked up therapist, long distance, visiting hometown
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-13 16:03:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29778645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/callmeshakesqueer/pseuds/callmeshakesqueer
Summary: Macarena Ferreiro is a famous actress, dealing with a burn out, who comes back for a winter break to her hometown. Fate wants her to bump into Zulema Zahir, the last person she wants to see.They have a chance to mend the old relationship and see if the obstacles are still stronger than their bond.But will they take it?
Relationships: Macarena Ferreiro/Zulema Zahir
Comments: 27
Kudos: 39





	1. back in town

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm back with another multi-chaptered story! 😁
> 
> it's pretty exciting to start something again from a scratch and i'm hoping you will enjoy it!

_i won't ask you to wait if you don't ask me to stay_

\- Taylor Swift, 'tis the damn season

* * *

“Thank you,” Macarena says, smiling and takes the latte from the barista’s hands, heading to a free seat in the corner.

She debates on taking her beige coat off but settles on wearing it, as the cold wind from the outside finds its ways in the creaks of windows and doors. She pulls her hair out of the collar and throws it onto her back.

Fixing her eyes in front of her, she grins back at her best friend.

“It’s really good to see you, you know? All the time disappearing in the big world, I missed you,” Rizos says, while sipping on her enormous cappuccino.

“I missed you, too,” Macarena answers. Her tongue burns after tasting her drink. “And surprisingly I also missed this town.”

She can recognize most of the people sitting in the coffee shop, except for some new faces. The barista stayed the same and the owner greeted her like he always used to when she was still in high school. This place never really changes, everything halts in time.

That’s the reason she left. Well, one of them.

But right now it feels almost soothing to see that not everything rushes in the world.

“How could you not…” Rizos sighs and reaches for her sandwich. “It’s actually really nice here. Perfect place for a wedding.”

“Secretly I’m glad it’s only an engagement party, please, don’t make a winter wedding,” Maca chuckles while shaking her head. “I can’t stand the cold.”

“No snow in Madrid?”

“Nope.”

“Lucky. But it has some kind of charm, doesn’t it?” Both of them look outside to see snowdrifts surrounding the main street.

Macarena hasn’t seen so much snow in years, ever since the year she left to make her dreams come true. The only snow she saw from then was a fake one on the movie sets.

They part soon after as Rizos has to come back home to prepare the party; Macarena walks to her parents’ house. The snow falls into her face and stays in her hair, her nose and cheeks turn pink and her ears hurt from the wind passing by. The cold shouldn’t bother her too much as she lived in one for years alone. At least, it makes her feel _something_.

She takes the longer path, just to avoid streets she doesn’t want to cross. There are too many in such a little town. And fairly, she remembers them all too well.

~

For a short moment, while making herself later than adequate, Macarena reconsiders her outfit in the mirror. She bought her clothes before leaving Madrid, knowing what’s coming on the first day visiting her hometown; a long pleated skirt, to mid calves, in a calm light beige and a new turtleneck, its colour hovering between dark bronze and auburn. It differs a lot from what she wears in the capital, where her fashion choices are undermined by stylists.

She is on a break, thankfully, and she can wear whatever the hell she wants. But it doesn’t stop her from doubting the outfit on her own, already taught to do that.

 _It’s perfectly fine_. She rolls her eyes. _It is not._

Macarena has a bad time accepting her life isn’t as collected as it appears in the magazines. And being at peace with the fact she can’t control the guests attending her best friend’s party.

She leaves, tying a plated scarf around her neck and buttoning her coat before.

Rizos moved to the other side of the town after a couple of years dating Saray, to south down the bridge, so Macarena takes her car to drive to her destination. There are high hopes in her best friend will let her stay overnight.

She parks her car around the corner, knowing all spots must be already taken in front of the house and she is right once the villa appears in front of her eyes. She has no idea how much Saray gets paid but that is _hell_ of a building, and there is no way Rizos, her dear schoolteacher, could afford that.

Right before she steps on the mansion, it starts snowing. She looks up, in the gentle light of the lamp hanging by the entrance and looks at the snowflakes. She breaths in deeply and just before she knocks on the door, there are footsteps behind her.

She is met with Saray carrying logs in her arms and grinning.

“ _Rubia!_ Look at you, our Hollywood star,” She exclaims and despite Macarena rolls her eyes at her words, she can’t help but feel familiar easiness creeping in with Saray’s presence. “Would you mind opening the door?”

So, without further waiting and overthinking, Macarena pushes the handle and makes room for the host to walk into the house.

Saray throws off her boots and Macarena steps out of her own. After untangling out of her winter-wear, she waits for Saray to put the logs on the floor and they hug each other.

“It’s really good to see you, Saray,” She says, her hands softly moving on the brunette’s back.

 _Gitana_ smiles and fixes Maca’s hair, “I’m glad you came.”

“Although, we should talk about the fact you didn’t ask for my blessing,” Maca raises her eyebrows and would cross her arms if Saray didn’t throw the wood on her.

“ _Lo siento_ , but you were hundreds of kilometres away.”

“Don’t act like we don’t message each other every week,” Maca points out and walks into the corridor leading to the living room.

The music playing there and the muffled conversation would lead her to the right room, even if Saray didn’t help her get there. She is in awe looking at the way the space in the house was brilliantly used; she feels like in a little palace and not in a house, looking at the white panels on the floor, creme furniture and oil paintings hang next to some family photos, where she sometimes figures herself, mostly during their high school times.

Saray senses her curiosity and slows down her walk, so Macarena can watch everything carefully; they pass at least three other rooms, where Maca notices a fucking piano.

What the hell has she missed while being away? Rizos told her Saray has a house full of fancy shit but _this_ fancy? She is scared to hit something accidentally and breaking it. Everything seems so breakable.

But, absurdly, the only thing that will break tonight will be her heart and common sense.

They walk into the large room, already filled with people; some standing by the fireplace on the right, others seated on the sofa, or on armchairs.

That’s what catches Macarena’s eyes immediately; she halts moving.

“Don’t make a scene,” Saray whispers to her, heading to the fireplace with the logs. She sends her a meaningful look, telling her to get her shit together. Saray knows what it means to Macarena.

What it means that Zulema Zahir herself is sitting in this room. Breathing the same air.

She looks up the moment Macarena walks in and time stops for a moment. For infinity. For somewhere in between.

The moment of short forever between them crumbles down when Rizos gets up and lightly jumps, “Now we’re in the full squad!” She squeals happily and heads to the blonde, embracing her tightly.

When they part Maca sees worry hidden deep inside Estefanía’s eyes. She smiles as brightly, reassuring her everything is alright. Even though, it is not. But there are matters more and less important.

She ignores the painful knock in her heart when she sees another woman sitting on the armrest of Zulema’s armchair and they both are laughing like precious friends. Well, they might be friends. Macarena must have missed a lot, more than she expected.

Throughout the party she gets to know new faces in town and reunite with good old friends; she talks with Sole, her old teacher and the most supportive person she knows, almost forgetting about her problems.

The older woman is as kind as ever and before they part to others, she says she can’t wait for Macarena’s another movie and asks her to update her if anything is coming up.

It is, indeed, but she can’t make herself talk about work on her break. It’s short enough.

The woman who sat by Zulema turns out to be Helena Martín, who came to Mírias two years earlier, to settle everything after her divorce and decided to stay. She is teaching PE at the local school, a colleague of Rizos. Looks likeable, witty and bright but Macarena doesn’t feel any sympathy towards her.

With relief, she moves away from her and finally reaches her dream destination - the table. She pours herself a heavy glass of wine and drinks it almost instantly. She ignores Rizos’ scrunched nose and a lot of doubt in her eyes, she just simply raises the glass, grinning.

Alcohol, yes. She needs more.

“Still a heavy drinker, Ferreiro?” She hears a voice behind.

As slowly as possible, Macarena turns back to be met with familiar green eyes. No matter how many years have passed, they always look the same. Gleaming with mischief and scepticism. A stranger would say they are curious but it’s nothing like that - they are bitter. The only curiosity in them is if someone will get hit in the face.

But otherwise, Zulema has let the time change her. She looks older, more adult. There are wrinkles under her eyes, marked so gently, carved into the skin. Maca wonders for a while if her cheeks are still so delicate, so soft and would still fit her palm. Her lips are slightly coloured with violet lipstick.

She grew her raven-black hair out, now reaching her shoulder blades, straight, bangs staying the same.

Macarena examines her outfit; black cargo pants and tight black shirt, with a couple of translucent stripes, showing off her skin but not enough to see anything particular. She has a violet belt, in the same shade as her lipstick. She used to add a subtle pairing like this ever since… ever since they met.

“Depends on who is asking,” Maca answers, bringing the glass to her lips. Could’ve been such nice drinking in peace.

“And if it’s me?” Zulema smirks.

“Lying to you won’t work anyway,” Macarena says with a sigh. “You always see right through people.”

“ _No_ ,” Zulema raises her pointing finger, her teeth now visible in a smart smile. “I always see right through _you_.”

Before Maca has any time to disagree and waste her energy, Rizos clinks a fork over her own glass, bringing attention.

“We wanted to say something with Saray,” She is smiling and glances at each one of her guests. It escapes to her attention that Zulema is dangerously close to Macarena, so as discreetly as she can, Maca ducks the brunette and moves to where Sole is standing. Her old mentor smiles at her and turns her attention to the fiancées. “We don’t wanna make it cliché, but…”

“Rizos does want to make it cliché,” Saray nods and pretends to laugh at her partner. “As everything is with her.”

“Oh, keep your pretty mouth shut or we will divorce before we can even get married!”

Everyone chuckles and Macarena can’t help but feel her heart grow big while looking at her best friend in such a happy careless state. She wished for Rizos to find her one true love ever since she learned it’s the woman’s dream and seeing it come alive feels incredible.

“We’re extremely happy everyone invited made it here today… Although there are some people who aren’t with us anymore to watch what’s happening…” Rizos stops for a while and her eyes escape to the hanging photograph of her family. Her parents died in a car accident over ten years before and Macarena saw her fall apart and slowly collect herself into another, stronger person. She was there to pick up fragments of Kabila, to help her assemble them in one; she lost her newest role and spend a month over in Mírias.

But, surprisingly, she remembers those days as the better ones. Well, they were literally the worst as Rizos was grieving and shed the amount of tears that both of them haven’t in their whole lives, and Macarena felt the pain in her heart, too, as Kabila family always had their arms open to her.

After all those years, it was this small town where she belonged. Yet her heart always tries to escape and find new places, find the adrenaline in cities, in rush. That’s her curse and she is under it, not fighting.

“But I feel their presence here and they are content. They are happy we are all here. And God, I am happy, too,” She grins and smiles at Saray who entangles her hand around her waist from behind. “We haven’t decided on the date of the wedding yet, but Saray and I wanted both ask two very important people for a favour. I will go first, _ya_?”

Saray nods and nudges her fiancée with her head.

Rizos turns to Macarena, and as emotional as she can be in their friendship, her eyes are shining with tears, “Macarena, can I have the honour of you being my best woman?” Her expression is a hopeful one and even if Maca didn’t want to agree, she is sure she wouldn’t be able to.

She chuckles and feels her own tears dangerously burning, “Of course!” Stepping out, she falls into Rizos’ arms and they hug each other tightly.

“I’m the one honoured here,” Macarena says.

“Well, my future best woman will burn with embarrassment if I get all soft here as I do when we’re alone, so I’m gonna just ask. You in, Zule?” Saray tilts her head at the brunette with a smug smile, hiding her true feelings under.

“Got you, _gitana_ ,” Zulema says, nodding.

Rizos starts giving out glasses with champagne to guests, exchanging pleasantries and when everyone has the liquor in their hands, Macarena brings attention.

“To our dear Estefanía and Saray!”

They raise their glasses and taste the expensive drink. When Macarena feels the bubbles on her tongue, her eyes wander to the side of the room she would always search for.

What a long night ahead of her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> every comment will make my heart happily jump❤


	2. the day after

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy international women's day!
> 
> thank you all for such a warm welcome for my fanfic, it made me really happy❤
> 
> i hope you'll enjoy this chapter as well☺

Macarena greets the morning with pounding in her head and nausea. She rolls out of the bed, groaning and pleading God to forgive her yesterday’s mistakes. With a sigh, she looks at the aspirin and glass of water and thanks her guardian angel.

It hurts her head, even more, when she sees her reflection in the rectangular mirror on the wall. Her make up is all over her face and her hair barely reflect the waves from the previous evening. And dear saints, she doesn’t want to even talk about the dark circles underneath her hollow and tired eyes.

She fixes the creased clothes as much they can be fixed and steps out, instantly regretting it. She speeds down the hall on the first floor to the bathroom and runs straight to the toilet, emptying her stomach.

_She’s never drinking again._

Macarena doesn’t laugh at the silly thought just because she is too busy throwing up. When she is done, she washes her mouth and drinks some water from the tap. Then, takes off the mascara from her eyelids and cheeks.

Her face presents a passable look. She’s glad there will be only friends around and none of them will take a picture to send it off into the internet.

The road down the stairs is a killing chore and when she finally gets down, the sounds of functioning people in the kitchen almost makes her head burst. She hangs her head low, entering the room and hears cheers; as a sign of surrendering she shows her middle finger.

“You were really happy last night, Maca,” Rizos approaches her and entangles her hands around her waist from behind. “What changed?”

“Yeah, you were positively radiating with… excitement,” Saray agrees while she hits two plates against each other and Macarena flinches and groans. “Alcohol seemed to put you in the mood for jokes.”

“I don’t remember too much…” Macarena says and plops down on the stool by the kitchen island. “Should I be dying from embarrassment?”

“Well…” Rizos joins Saray on the other side of the counter and places two toasts on a plate and puts them in front of Macarena.

The couple exchange a look and Macarena can’t help but be already done with whatever mess she made.

“You basically stole Rizos’ ring and tried to propose to…”

“To a lot of people,” Rizos finishes and grins but it becomes more of a worried look. Macarena knows this look.

“Oh my God, what have I- to who have I proposed?”

“Well, you started off with Tere and she happily agreed. You were bored with your engagement after two minutes and went off after Saray’s father, and when he denied, you cried. Do I need to go on?”

“No! No, please no,” Macarena shakes her head violently and regrets it instantly. She puts her elbows on the counter and hides her face in her hands. “I should’ve been more careful. I’m so sorry, _chicas_ , I’m really sorry. I ruined your evening.”

“It’s okay, Maca, really. We’ve had great fun and it’s all alright,” Rizos smiles and pushes the plate closer to her friend. “Eat up.”

“It’s cool, _Rubia_ ,” Saray says. “At least we didn’t have to pay for a clown.”

Macarena moans in pain and her face falls on the surface next to her food. She has not let herself party in years, wary in the life of celebrity vultures and paparazzi and everyone gossiping, trying to find the soft point in everyone’s career. And this way, the first time she is freed of those responsibilities, she goes and makes a fool out of herself.

Yet, she can tell her friends aren’t telling her the whole story.

“Could you give me some water and another aspirin? The one you left for me is already flushed down the toilet,” She sighs and regrets looking up.

While Saray searches through their medicine cabinet, Rizos slowly raises her head with a confused look in her eyes. “What aspirin? I didn’t give you anything.”

“On the nightstand in the guest room.”

Saray places the glass and the tablet, “Fewer questions, more drinking.”

“So it must have been Sole or Tere,” Maca says hopefully.

“They left pretty early, honestly,” Rizos answers, trying not to give out the amused quivering in her voice.

“What are you two hiding?!”

“You kind of… passed out,” Saray says, a smile growing on her face. “But! You should be happy about it. It was right before you planned to propose to Zulema.”

“I. Planned. What.” Macarena feels like visiting the bathroom again.

“I tried to stop you when you laid out every detail of your shitty plan but you seemed really determined,” Saray shrugs. “But there you were, suddenly on the couch, barely conscious and your body saved you from what was plotting in your head.”

“So we brought you upstairs and tucked in,” Rizos ends the story. She leans in and puts a strand of hair behind Ferreiro’s ear. “And that’s it. Everything is okay.”

Macarena drinks more water and stands up, gathering the balance. “I think I’m going home. I need to hide from the results of yesterday.”

“I will drive you,” Rizos decides and finishes the last sip of her smoothie. “There is no way you’re going to sit behind the wheel in that state.”

~

For the rest of the Sunday, hazy and slow, Macarena stays in her old bedroom. She replies to a couple of questions from her parents about the party, and laughs when appropriate just to have peace for the rest of the day.

Her phone says it’s right before eight p.m. The pounding in her head seems to have calmed down a bit. The room is covered with darkness, which must be helping and she lights up the nightstand, then rubs her swollen eyelids. She feels rumbling in her stomach and finally feels like she would happily eat something and not give it back a minute later.

After preparations and stretching, Macarena boldly leaves the bed, immediately lamenting. Her body has clearly forgotten how fucking wasted she can get.

When she glances outside the window, moving the burgundy curtains aside, she awes at the sight. Another snowstorm must have begun when she was asleep and it’s still roaring through the town; she watches the snowflakes hit the glass and cover the front yard with increasing drifts. At least some things stay beautiful, even when she feels like dying.

She spends the rest of the night moping around, supplying herself with the calories she forgot to give herself throughout the earlier part of the day and checking the weather outside from time to time.

Because of the hours Macarena wasted on sleeping through her hangover, she stays up until the morning, trying to find her place in the house. She walks around the parlour and later makes herself a cup of hot cocoa which, as she hopes, will help lull her to sleep. Then she ends up upstairs and secretly enters Roman’s old room, even though there is no one to catch her.

He moved out long before she decided to find her chance in Madrid and left everything as it was. She can still find old notebooks from school, diplomas and congratulation cards for won competitions.

She sighs and her eyes catch a familiar navy blue colour. Without thinking much, she reaches for the yearbook. She runs her fingers through the pages and finally finds Roman’s class.

Of course, the first person she sees is Zulema. Her breath halts for a moment, just like her heart.

Zulema in the photo is exactly the person Macarena holds in her memory. Black straight hair to her jawline and face, just now she sees it, still of a young person, of someone so innocent. Despite this, she was the devil herself.

Roman Ferreiro and Zulema Zahir hated each other with passion in high school, competing in the same class, both ahead of other classmates. Perhaps that’s why Roman couldn’t stand Macarena hanging out with Zahir; that his sister chose to his enemy. It still lingers between them, no matter how many years have passed. But then, Macarena became another enemy of Zulema. It’s probably written into Ferreiro heritage.

The old photograph brings too much heartache, so she closes the yearbook and puts it on the shelf.

Seeing Zulema the day before didn’t hurt as much because she’s changed. She is a different person and Macarena doesn’t know anything about her, aside from things she hears from Rizos and Saray. But the version of Zulema on the photograph? God, it’s like everything from her early twenties is surfacing and she is drowning in every second of those years. Even the worst seconds. The ones that coloured her pain the most.

Seeing and thinking about it makes her more tired than all this walking, so she paces back to her bedroom and slips underneath the covers. Sleep comes after a long time but still turns out to remember about her.

~

It’s almost noon when a text wakes Macarena up.

_**Rizos** : wanna visit our old school? i’m working ‘til 1pm_

She knows there’s nothing better to do anyway, so she answers Rizos and gets up to take a shower after feeling her own smell.

An hour later, Macarena parks her car on the school parking for teachers, hoping it will go passable. Sole is the headmistress now, so knowing her she won’t mind. She spots Rizos’ car before she heads towards the back entrance.

Right by the covered with snow field, she finds where the old door should be, a wall. It surprises her and she ends up walking all the way around the building and seeing only another door but she isn’t sure enough to use them.

Just like that, she has to go through the front entrance and the main hall. Presuming from the noise, it’s probably break time and she has to face over a hundred moody teenagers. She fears little things but in the group of her terror are teenagers. She prays they don’t recognize her and even if, they don’t care.

She pulls out her phone just to look down and not give her face out immediately.

_**Macarena** : I’m here. where are you?_

_**Rizos** : come to the staffroom_

Macarena hides her phone and rushes through the crowded hall. Right by the corner, she hits someone’s shoulder. She looks up and is met with the face she really doesn’t need to see today.

“Macarena!” Helena is smiling, too widely and too happily, for the blonde to believe it. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to see Rizos. And look around the school, too,” She says, hoping the woman will let it go.

Of course, she does not.

“Maybe you will give up your career and settle as a teacher with us?” Helena laughs and places her hand on Macarena’s shoulder. “We would be happy with such a woman here. Well, at least, most of us.”

_What the hell is she implying?_

But Macarena smiles politely and lets the comment go unnoticed, “I need to hurry, it was nice to see you.”

Macarena hopes it is the last time their paths cross. She remembers from the party how close with Zulema they seemed to be, how friendly and she plots already the whole story. She sees multiple variations of how an affair could go down between them and stops herself only when she stands in front of the staffroom.

She knocks several times and opens the door without waiting. Perhaps it’s impolite but she doesn’t want to wait; quick to escape her thoughts.

Rizos is right by the door and greets her with a grin, pulling her into a hug.

“It’s weird to be here,” Maca confesses while looking around the room. “From this perspective.”

“You get used to it,” Rizos says. “Look, I have my own place and shelves. I swear that my high-school self would lose her mind hearing that.”

“You had an obsession with teachers,” Macarena follows her and watches Rizos collect papers from a table and check the schedule hanging on the wall.

Then, Tere enters the room and raises her eyebrows, “Oh! Maca, what are you doing here?”

“Visiting my own school,” Macarena smiles. The place is able to actually bring some happy memories, no matter how impossible it felt at first. “Can’t forget where I came from, right?”

The older woman approaches them and entangles her arm around Macarena’s middle, stroking her side, “A lot has changed, you will be surprised. I would give you a tour but I have a class any moment now.”

“What has happened to the back door?”

Tere and Rizos laugh and shake their heads, “Let’s just say it didn’t work.”

Macarena decides to leave the matter alone.

“I need to settle some things,” Rizos says, making a mess on the table and throwing the documents and assignments around. “You can walk around the school. I’ll be ready in fifteen minutes.”

The bell rings and Macarena awaits for the noise to quiet down on the hallways and that’s when she braves herself to leave.

The walls are painted in the same two strips - a white above and lower a strong green. The same exact it was before she graduated, but the paint is newer and fresher. She recognizes every corner, like she’s never really left.

She decides to take a path which she would never take as a teenager involuntary, but where she used to land very often. Maybe too often. As she comes to the main hall and passes the eating and break room, a moment later she sees the headmaster’s office.

After knocking, she opens the door and smiles at the secretary she doesn’t recognize.

“Hi, I’m Macarena Ferreiro. I’m here to meet Ms Núñez,” She says and waits for the woman to call up the headmistress and announce who came.

It’s weird to call Soledad by her last name. Just like it was weird to call her by her name when their relationship gradually evolved. After graduation, it took one year or two for Macarena and Sole create a deeper relationship than just mentorship. She was one of her favourites at school, back when the older woman was still teaching Spanish. They always had a great connection that made them discuss and argue at all possible topics, when Macarena stayed after lessons.

“Ms Núñez says you can come in,” The secretary says and gestures to the wooden dark door.

Macarena happily obligates and walks into the familiar office. Yet it seems more homely now, with accessories and chromes Maca instantly knows were added by Sole.

“Macarena! I see you are feeling better!” Sole smiles from behind the big desk.

“Hi, yes, I’m better now,” Macarena agrees and sits down in front of the headmistress. She realizes how eerie it feels to sit there with no stress and anxiety. “I’m sorry for whatever I might have done during the party.”

“Don’t worry, darling. It was a party after all,” Sole winks. “Just between us, I got pretty drunk, too and that’s why we left with Tere earlier. She took me before I could go completely overboard.”

Macarena opens her eyes widely and chuckles, “That’s actually comforting.”

She changes her position in the chair and lets her eyes roam around the room. She shifts again in her seat, “It does feel weird to sit here again.”

Sole laughs out loud, “I remember the way I used to bring you here all the time,” She shakes her head. “You gave me sleepless nights, one time I actually thought they would expel you. Quite a troublemaker. But, Christ, so brilliant. You always had a fresh clear mind, like no one of my students.”

“It’s really nice to hear that, thank you,” Maca’s cheeks feel warmer now and she glances down.

“You still have that mind, Maca,” Sole brings her back from her thoughts. “And use it very well. So… maybe you can tell me what project you are working on right now?”

“I can’t! You know that very well,” Macarena rolls her eyes at the pout she receives. “When they let me say anything, you’re the first I’m calling.”

“I’ll remember that.”

They say goodbye soon and Macarena promises to visit her old mentor once more before leaving.

When she gets back to the staffroom, expecting to see packed and ready Rizos she is met with silence and not a single soul. But the papers from the table are gone, so she sighs and pulls out her phone. She scrolls through the contacts and chooses the right number. Voice mail announces itself on the other side and she tries not to get annoyed. She calls once more until she realizes that there is a buzzing sound of a phone ringing and she turns back to see Rizos’ smartphone abandoned. At least, she is still in the building and probably soon will be back.

Turning to the entrance, Macarena curses herself and everything, all the stars who had to cross the specific way and prepare the future. Zulema is standing at the door of the staffroom, flames playing in her eyes.

They are both equally astounded to see each other and stop and stare. It’s Zulema who breaks out of the trance and walks to the hangers and takes a black jacket and black file from another table aside.

“Y-you are working here?” Finally, Macarena chokes out.

“I visit from time to time, occasionally,” The brunette throws the jacket on her shoulders and throws the hair from beneath it, untangling it with her long fingers.

Macarena’s mouth is slightly open while she is looking for any words. However, they aren’t coming.

“Reading from your face, we have a lot of catching up to do. Want to meet me later?” Zulema looks into a mirror hanged on the wall by the door and their eyes meet in the glass. For a moment they just stay like this, never breaking the eye-contact.

“Oh, I-” Macarena finally says, a disconcerted smile on her face. “I think I’ll pass.”

Zulema turns to face her and shrugs, “I’m simply curious about the Macarena Ferreiro you created in Madrid.”

“I’m still the same Macarena,” She lies, and the question is if she is trying to lie only to Zulema or to herself, too. “You really have nothing to find out about.”

“You differ a lot from what you used to be. Just think about it,” Zulema opens the door. Just when she’s about to leave, her head docks in the room again. “I can tell you’re curious, too.”

When Macarena is sure by the footsteps resounding in the hallway, moving away from the room, that Zulema won’t come back, she lets herself breathe deeply. The tension she didn’t know was there leaves her body.

“I shouldn’t be.” It’s barely a whisper but enough to realize how _deep_ she already is. And it’s only been three days.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> see you in a week!  
> every comment will be highly appreciated ❤


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